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THE DEAD FOREST OF THE COLORADO 



A P O E M 



By 



K E N R Y P, K. B R O M WELL 



Copyright, 1918, 

By 

HENRIETTA E. BROMWELL. 

DENVER. COLORADO 






Mi 29 1918 



©GI.A4 995(10 



--VvO 



THE DEAD FOREST OF THE COLORADO. 



The pines in the night wind did shiver. 

And Bigh, on the desolate strand 
Of a lonely and turbulent river. 

That flows through New Mexico's sands; 
That down thro' the land of the Zunis, 

Doth moaning and murmuring roll : 
It was night in the land of the Zunis, 

And night in the wastes of my soul 

In the desolate land of the Zunis, 

In the desolate realms of my soul. 



The Dead Forest Of The Colorado. 



And I came where the starlight did quiver 

Through a wonderful forest, that spread. 
By that vexed and irascible river. 

All sapless and mossy and dead ; 
A forest whose corpses gigantic 

Did ghost like and awful arise. 
And spread their great arms as in anguish. 

And raise their dead hands to the skies — 
Huge corpses, whose life blood has vanished. 

Which hold their dead hands to the skies. 

And silent beneath them was lying 

Each broken and mouldering trunk: 
Which dead, at the feet of the dying. 

In years immemorial sunk ; 
And silent the stars of the zenith 

Their tapers above them did hold ; 
Thoir funereal tapers did hold ; 

Whose life to the life beat unceasing 
Throbo on through the ages untold 

To the life beat of Heaven unceasing. 
Which throbs through the ages untold, 



The Dead Forost Of The Colorado. 



And 1 said, like this desert way dreary, 

Is my life through the wastes of the years 
As walk I, thus wildered and weary. 

Where but darkness and danger appears. 
So my spirit drth toil, ever lonely. 

With useieEs and wearisome tread 

Before me, and round me, are only 

The v/£stes of despondency spread 

The fields which wh3n traversed are only 

The wastes where all pleasures lie dead. 

And this forest all bare and decaying, 

V/i\ich bright in the mirage did seem, 
But stands as the smitten hopes playing. 

So fair in my spirit's past dream. 
Ah ! Slumber and moulder ye broken. 

And crumble, ye upright which stand 

Of my hopes ye are visible tokens, 

V/hile ye mingle your dust with this sand — 
All speechless, but eloquent tokens 

Of Hope which man plants in the sands. 



The Dead Forost Of The Colorado. 



And as wandered I, inournfully xnui,hijj, 

A shadow v/rapped spring I espied 
From a moss ccvared tumuiiiG oozing, 

By a worm eatsn cypress's side; 
And I knelt by its rric'donlesa fcosom. 

And a chill through my being did glide 

A chili in my heart did abide; 

From its wormv/ood like waters transfusing 
My soul, aa I dranii ot" their tido. 

And the speli of that current was o'er me, 

And life and its memories did seem. 
To g-limmcr and fAt from before me. 

As thing's of a vanishing dream. 
And the spectre like glanta did tremble. 

And stretch their cold hands to the moon. 
And the winds all their notes did assemble, 

Their voices of April and June 

All winds of eweet voices assembled 

Of long vanished Aprils and Junes, 
And all thro' that death scene they trembled. 

And weird v/ore their wonderful tunes. 



The Dead Forest Of The Colorado. 



V/h'ch trilling and warolinij and crooning 

Thro' the worm eaten branc lies all rung, — 
Till their v/orm eaten fingers all rung, 

As of skeleton minstrels returning 
The harps that in life they had strung. 

Those bre'3-es that silent had slumbered. 
With sepulchred seasons of yore 

The breaths of the long perished summers, 
Which sang in tlie valleys of yore, 

Of upii.^en May days and summers, 
Returned from their stygian shore. 

In magical melodies ringing. 

Till lo ! on each skeleton limb 
Fresh buds and green leaflets were springing. 

And the minster like arches grew dim; 
With fair boughs and soft foliage swinging 

In time with the many tuned airs ; 
And bell blossomed vines gently clinging 

Festooned the broad aisles everywhere 

And I walked on a flov/er carpet springing 

Throughout the long aisles everywhere. 



The Dead Forest Of The Colorado. 



And loi as 1 mused, in my hearing 

The giant trees standing around 

Vv'ere speaking in converse around : 

No iorni of aught breathing appearing, — 
No accents of mortal did sound ; 

Yet clearly each sentence unbroken 
Distinct to my spirit did seem, 

In that mystical language unspoken. 
Which sounds in the Kingdom of Dreams — 

Perceived, all unheard, and unspoken. 
In the marvelous Kingdom of Dreams. 

Said the Cedar, "I am loved of two lovers 

Who triste neath my sheltering boughs ; 
Their fears and their hopes I discover. 

In my ears do they mingle their vows. 
I smile on their gentle caressing, 

I sigh as their souls when they pine. 
And incense and garlands and blessing, 

I cast on their foreheads from mine 

With their vows do I mingle my blessing. 

Their orisons mingle with mine." 



Tiio Dead Forest Of The Colorado 



And the Cypress said: "Under my sweeping 

And pendulous branches, at rest. 
An ebon haired maiden ia sleeping : 

And oft when the winds are at rest. 
The voice of one v/aiting and weeping 

Goea up tu the stars from the gloom ; 
And i watch with one vigils here keeping, 

I bow as ho kneels by her toinb 

i mean with the voice of his v/ceping, 

We mingle our tears on t:;e tomb." 

And the Oak said: "When storm voices mutter, 

A wizard his vigils doth hold; 
Beneath me, his vigils doth hold; 

And dread incantations doth utter 
When darkness the woods doth enfold. 

When the fiarne of the cloud bolt doth lighten 
ills v/hite streaming beard v/ith its glare. 

The thrill that his eye beam both brighten 
My innermost heart veins do share; 

And I shriek to the spirits affrightened. 
And toss my wide arms into their' s. 



The Dead Forest Of The Colorado. 



So they spake thro' tlie moonlight houra holy, 

'Till the stars of ths midnight once more 
The bourne of the niidnig-ht went o'tr; 

And their watchfires all stilly and slowly 
Aloft on the zenith upbore; 

And many the wonderful legends, 
And deep were the &ecret3 they told; 

Strange tales of delectable regions, 
That shone in the sunlight of old 

Now waste, but once beautiful regions, 
Neath the sunbeam and starlight of old. 

Then a cloud the bright moonbeam did swallow. 

And its blackness closed round me and o'er; 
And hoarse thro' the forest and hollow. 

The voice of a storm wind did roar: 
And I bowed as the darkness went o'er me. 

And chilled was my spirit in dread: 
Till passed the black horror before me. 

And with it all loveliness fled 

The gloom and the sound from before me. 

With the scene of enchantment was fled. 



The Dead Forest Of The Colorado 



And there stood but those corpses gigantic, 

Which held to th-j moon their dead hands, 
And the night wind, in measure morantic 

Wailod on, e'er the desolate sands. 
And away by the turbulent river. 

The pines on the desolate shore, 
Did siich in the night wind and shiver 

As sig-hcd they and shivered before 

And I v/alked v/here the moonlight did quiver 

Through the worm eaten forest once more. 

But in converse with days that had vanished, 

My heart did the night hours beguile 

And visions long fled and joys banished. 

Thronged back round my spirit the while 

The airs of youth's morning assembled, 

Which played in life's April and June; 
Through my desolate spirit they trembled. 

And weird were their wonderful tunes 

As on chords of a broken harp trembled, 

Rewaking its slumbering tunes. 



T h » ' t Of The Colorado. 



In magical melodies ringing, 

Ti]l hopes that were withered and dfead. 
With beautj' and freshness were springing, 

Their bloom on my spirit to shed ; 
And thus till the blush of the morning, 

I walked till the shadows went round 

Ox dead trees in the moonlight went round 

New dreams of the old ever forming. 
Alone on that mystical ground 

Thus ever the poet is forming 
His visions on mystical ground. 

And Hope her fair rainbow threw o'er me. 

And on thro' its arches there passed. 
Her bright panorama before me, 

Repainted from joys that were past; 
And I said, should such joys be his only 

Yet surely he lives not in vain 

The Poet doth live not in vain 

Who round his dark pathway and lonely 
Can gather Youth's pleasures again 

As this forest, that wasted and lonely 
Doth dream back its gloriee a^ain. 



The Dead Forest Of The Colorado. 



And thus while the night hours were creeping, 

I plucked from the bright long ago. 
Fair jewels of Memory's keeping-. 

On the wastes ci the future to strew 
Bright buds and sweet blossoms left sleeping. 

To v/ake in the future their glow. 
Then forth thro' the land of the Zunis, 

I passed, to m5' far avraj' goal 

It was morn in the land oi the Zunis, 

And morn in the realms of my soul. 
In the sunlighted land of the Zunis, 

In the hope lighted realms of my soul. 

Yet still were some purple mists flinging. 

Their shadows through Canon and dale; 
The shreds of Night's mantle left clinging. 

As she fled over Mesa and vale: 
And as these in my spirit did nestle. 

Some shadows of sorrows long borne 
Still held in its deepest recesses. 

When Joy sheds the halos of morn 

Still tou.ching its inmost recesses 

With sadness mid joy's waking morn. 

1868 









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